Veil of Reality
by LadyMeringue
Summary: If this was the last time he was going to be with her, then he was going to take the best of it. If this was where things were meant to end, then they couldn't have found a better ending. If this was home, then he wanted to feel this loved for one more night. And if this was goodbye, then he didn't want it any other way. NeRa one-shot. Set between Seasons 4 and 5. Please R&R.


**Veil of Reality**

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 **A/N: Hey guys, I'm back! Your response on Quintessentially Dead really took me by surprise and I'm super-thrilled that you guys loved it so much! :D I decided to leave it on the note I left it at because it felt complete in itself, but I will definitely be writing a couple more stories for this fandom for certain!**

 **Now coming to this piece, it's once again a one-shot, although this one's set between Seasons 4 and 5, during the time Peter was in jail and Sarah was to leave for London. And in case you're wondering, yes it's a NealxSarah fic, so to all their shippers, yay I'm joining you right in your club! *winks***

 **Again, I'm relatively new with the fandom so this particular one may feel a little OTT with Neal but I'm still trying to improve better with the character traits.**

 **Not keeping y'all longer,**

 **Happy Reading! :D :D**

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Goodbyes were never easy.

Neal Caffrey had never realized this up until the moment when he found himself in bed with the woman he know knew he loved, tangled in her embrace. This was probably the last time they were ever going to be so close, for tomorrow...

Well, tomorrow was the day when destiny would take them their own ways.

Sara had been offered to take on the London branch of Sterling Bosch and she'd happily taken up the offer. Why wouldn't she, when she had nothing more to take out of her job in New York? It was going to be a new beginning for her in another city. A new beginning away from him in her dream city.

And it ached dully.

He knew he had no right feeling that way. He'd given up that right when he chose the prospective life that the treasure would bring along than his shackled one with her and the FBI. Not that it didn't end well because eventually he lost enough of it to the FBI and his exile in Cape Verde. Yeah, that was probably when he completely renounced any remaining right over her.

When he vanished into thin air without even a goodbye.

And yet here he was in her arms tonight, saying goodbye one last time as she left for London on the first flight tomorrow. He was almost certain that they'd never see each other again after his faked proposal on the terrace. Why would they, when he would be so busy around running to court to acquit his father against all false charges, too busy to even think about an ex-interest leaving for another city?

And yet, she was the only person in his life at the moment who reminded him of home.

His father had turned out to be just like everyone else, afterall. He didn't kill a cop then, he killed one now. But he was still as spineless as he was all those years to own up to it. And Peter was left with no option but to own it up just to protect him. Not his father, _him_.

He couldn't blame Elizabeth for maintaining her distances from him either. She'd been sympathetic and understanding but it did not mean that she wasn't aggrieved and antagonized either. Mozzie was forced to lay low for a few days until the initial heat died down while June tried the best she could to ease away the guilt. But no one really understood what he was going through.

Except Sara.

When he reached her doorstep two weeks later with a bottle of champagne and her favourite chocolates, it'd been an impulse. Just like everything else he'd done in his life. He was without a family in the city for the first time in three years and he didn't have it in him to go see Elizabeth to fill the void or ask June to mollycoddle him anymore.

But when Sara had opened the door to her apartment in the simplicity of her white dress flowing gracefully around her, he'd found _home_. She looked as surprised as he felt really in that moment for being caught that off-guard.

"Neal... Wow, I'm sorry I wasn't expecting you here."

"Just thought I'd see you off," came the reply ever so confidently, his hollow insides squirmed uncomfortably. Was he even mourning the loss of what he was just put through emotionally?

"You got me my favourites, I see," remarked Sara when he couldn't think of anything else to see except meet eyes. He handed them both out to her as if on impulse and she kept them on the side table, her hands flying upon her hips.

"So, do you intend to stand at my doorstep all evening?"

"No, I-" was all he could say before a flustered smile crossed his lips, his hands flying behind his hair instantly. And today, he may have just been a seventeen year old Danny Brooks at the house of Cathy Halls, his first date, awkward and stammering.

"Come here."

It wasn't reluctance but a reflex as Sara's arms reached out to him and he let her tiptoe and pull him into an embrace, his arms circling around her figure in an instant. And suddenly, he simply found himself melting into her hold, his head snuggling into her neck while his eyes truly drooped for the first time since he came to know of "Sam" being his father.

"Oh Neal, what have you done to yourself?" he heard her whisper at one point as she eventually ran her fingers up into his hair in a known remedy to relax him while she loosened herself into his embrace alongside.

A summer and an autumn later, he finally separated himself from her and entered her apartment, Sara shutting the door behind with a smile. They sat on the couch for some time, had a couple glasses of wine before they ordered Mexican take out and somehow turned an uneventful evening into a candle-light dinner. Conversations flowed in and out like the rhythms of their breathing, discussing everything possible under the sun - his father, Peter and his fate along with Elizabeth, his own fate along with Mozzie's, their complicated relationship, Sara's new workplace, her life in a different city and the opportunities awaiting her now.

Silence filled into the stretched where conversations died, and yet there wasn't an air of awkwardness. Just plain comfort.

Dinner drew to an end as soon as Neal found himself standing by the door to Sara's room, lost in thought while she cleared everything up. This was where he'd been sent to kill her once as an accidental intercept. This was where things had changed between them. This was where they'd first made love. And this was where they'd be saying their final goodbyes to each other.

Yes, he'd made up his mind.

He was going to vanish once again from her life like thin paper. Not because he was running anywhere but because he was tired of bringing trouble upon every single person who'd ever seen good in him or had tried to help him. Ellen, Kate, Mozzie and now... Peter and Elizabeth. After them, he couldn't have it on his conscience to bring trouble upon anyone else. The least of all Sara.

Almost with a decided mind, he turned to leave when he bumped into Sara, who seemed to be taken off balance. Neal broke her fall at the last moment by catching hold of her arm.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Where are you headed to?"

"I- uh- I need to head back home. June's probably worried. I-"

"Neal?" asked Sara, her eyes boring into his. And he lost all defence. Her green gaze was strong enough to penetrate the power of his cornflower blue ones, demanding an answer for what it was.

"I can't do this. It's best if I head home."

"What can't you do?"

"This. _Us_ ," he emphasized, yet neither of them increased the distance between themselves. If anything, their lips grew even closer.

"What do you mean?"

"Sara, I think it's best if we aren't a part of each other's lives once you head to London. You have a future there that's been your calling since time. Don't ruin it because of me."

"Neal, didn't we decide that we were never going to let anything happen further between us either? Another time, another place-"

"- _another us_ , yes. But I wasn't talking about us in that way. I think it's best if we don't contact each other from this day forth," he stated in finality, the apartment ringing in the impact of his words. Sara laughed awkwardly, her eyes suddenly afraid.

"Is this the shock of whatever that's happened talking?"

"I'm serious, Sara. I've nearly lost all the people who're most important to me in my life. I don't want to lose you," he whispered, letting his guard down a little. For some very absurd reason, their lips were barely apart and he could now see the light freckles on her face.

"Why does it really matter, Neal?" asked Sara, her eyes suddenly glassy. Neal feared the answer lingering upon his lips. Perhaps they'd both had a little too much wine.

"I think I should really leave," replied Neal evasively, increasing the distance between him. Before he could take a step ahead, Sara had her hand wrapped around his wrist.

"Now without answering my question. Why?"

"Sara, don't make it difficult for me, okay?"

"I want to know why, Neal. Why? God damn it, Neal!"

"Because I love you, okay?!" choked Neal out in a single breath, his chest heaving. Sara stood in stunned disbelief. "After Kate, I never believed that I'd ever find love again. But I did. You brought back in me a Neal Caffrey who not just conned people for the heck of it, but who also knew after a long, long time what it felt to have someone love them for _themselves_. To be a better person for someone again. You weren't Kate or Alex to be attracted by my ability to con myself into living a luxurious lifestyle. You were Sara, who fell in love with a shackled man to the FBI who was trying to do good on his deal. Still crooked and corrupt in his ways, yes, but you gave me that chance. And on that rooftop, with that proposal, I meant every word of what I said. Which is exactly why we can never be together. Because I'm nothing but bad news to you."

Sara heard on in silence, her eyes teary yet defiant by the end of it. Neal continued to stare at her as though trying to memorize her features, afraid that this was all just a dream he was going to walk up from soon. And even though he wanted to do nothing more than leave, he found his feet inching towards Sara. And before he knew it, he found her sandwiched between the doorpost and himself, her eyes not breaking contact with his.

"Neal, being together or apart has never been your decision to make alone. It was always _ours_. Even today, even now," whispered Sara boldly before pulling Neal to her by his tie, his lips meeting her in a raunchy lock, his tongue taking a swirl strong enough to empty her head dizzyingly of all thoughts.

And before he knew it, he found his arms upon her waist and travelling down her thigh while Sara found her hands in his hair, clearly distracted by his agility. Caught between his lips dipping below her collarbone and her legs curled around his waist, Neal found Sara nipping his earlobe, the heat between them driving both of them to a desire they'd never felt for each other to this extent before.

The next time he were truly aware about what was happening, they were both in bed and had made love to each other thrice in two hours, Neal fallen haphazardly over Sara who looked like she'd blacked out momentarily. Having separated themselves from each other absentmindedly, she sleepily pecked his lips before falling asleep.

But he was far from asleep.

The room was dim, the moonlight streaming through the French windows benevolently and radiating Sara's face even more. And he couldn't believe that she would be leaving to London in a few hours. It was not the end of the world for certain. He could always drop by and visit her after his sentence was complete. But would it matter by then? Would she have found someone better by then, someone worthier of her? Perhaps it was best to let things settle and end right here.

Besides, it would be selfish on his part to expect anything more. When things weren't working out between them a year back, he'd let her go when the choice was between her and the treasure. Or rather, she'd let him go and he hadn't fought for her back. Fate had different ways of bringing them back together, but that was the first time he'd lost her.

But what would he do about the dull ache in his heart that had been there ever since his father had raised his voice and run off when he'd told him to do himself in? The harshness of that voice he would never forget, every syllabus haunting him deep into the night. He could have been three again, only the last memory of his father smiling and waving at him now replaced by this hideous one. And the proof in the box they sought was enough to incriminate him after all; he'd just been trying to eliminate the evidence and con his way into the world.

Like father, like son.

 _"You're not your father, Neal,"_ had been Peter's faith in him. And that faith had taken him to prison ultimately. And for that faith, he was going to go to the ends of the world to not only get Peter out, but to do anything in his capacity to get him out and live up to him as well. He would, yes.

And for that, he had to let go of Sara, atleast not until things over here were better. They'd had some amazing times with each other, that was true. But like all good things coming to an end, this was too. He wondered what kind of love was this meant to be where he couldn't even fight for her to stay back in New York for him. This was probably another right he'd lost alongside.

But he was used to losing people at this point of his life now.

He'd always been a romantic by heart but women were never destined to be a part of his life for the long-term. Be it Alex, Kate and now Sara, there was a recurring pattern with his choices. Three immensely talented, beautiful women with a power unparalleled, and yet he didn't know how to treat them well. Because at the end of the day, no matter how hard he tried, he found himself incapable to give them _security_.

Mozzie blamed it on his past; all men with a past like them never knew the concept of security because there was none given to them as kids, a foundation that determines how future relationships shaped. His mother had turned into an alcoholic post being put into WitSec and spent more time in bars than at home, while Ellen barely managed to make enough time to see me in the day. And he was used to living with fairytales and lies since the start, his life more daredevil than ever normal.

And so now no matter how hard he tried, he could never given the love of his life that reassurance because he was used to living life by now on the edge. And he'd made it a game. The more insecure his life got, the more the thrill of the chase intoxicated him. And the more he got his kicks out from it, the more that life felt worth living for him.

And this was why he never really felt remorse or regret over his actions.

He was done trying to find acceptance and love at the hands of the people he believed were once his family. If he found his security in the insecurity of his life, then that was a life he would never regret. And for the first time since he was 18, he wished that Ellen had never told him the truth about his father. He'd have been happier if he was dead and died a good cop than see the reality for his very own eyes. Even before he'd met his father, he believed that there was a scope of him being a framed cop and so desperately wanted to believe it too.

But he was naïve.

He'd always been a child at prayer.

His naivety had hurt a lot of people before, and Peter was going to be the last on that list. If ensuring Sara's safety emotionally and physically meant breaking away contact from her, it was a condition he was willing to go over for her. She deserved better. Much better.

Somewhere through the whirlwind of life, choices, Sara and Peter, Neal found himself falling asleep in entirety after a long, long time, Sara's lingering scent lulling him into a deeper slumber as she remained enveloped in his arms. If this was the last time he was going to be with her, then he was going to take the best of it. If this was where things were meant to end, then they couldn't have found a better ending. If this was home, then he wanted to feel this loved for one more night. If this was goodbye, then he didn't want it any other way.

And if this was his dream, he didn't want to be lured into this tiresome, fractured veil of reality anymore.

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 **Constructive criticism will be more than welcome and sorry for any typos! :D :D**


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